by Sarah Zettel
Todd saw the phones, and his face went dead white. He looked across his wife’s body at Beth. “Swear to God, Star. I had no idea what she was doing. Everything I said to you was the truth.”
“Fuck you!” screamed Dana. Todd stared at her, disgusted, exhausted.
Jeannie struggled to push herself upright. A thin thread of blood trickled down the side of her face. Dana wrapped her arms around Jeannie’s shoulders, trying to support her or maybe hold her in place. Beth couldn’t tell.
“Get up,” Todd said to Jeannie. “We’re outta here.”
But it was Dana who moved. She rose slowly from her crouch. Green and brown eyes both glittered. There was no more time. Beth needed to move now. Because Dana didn’t know how these two had staged public fights before. They used them the same way they used the stories of illness, poverty, and death. Because Beth had no time to explain that now.
Because Dana’s expression promised there’d be no forgiveness if Beth didn’t intervene.
Todd sighed, exasperated. He grabbed Jeannie’s arm. Jeannie shrieked as he yanked her to her feet. All the phone people gasped.
“Stop it!” Beth barged forward, getting right up into Todd’s face. “Let her go! Right now!”
Beth pulled Jeannie back and away so that now she was between her parents. Inside, the little girl she used to be screamed, Stop it! Stop it now!
“Cops are on their way!” shouted somebody.
“You gonna wait for them?” Beth asked Todd. “Maybe hit me too?”
Dana moved past Beth to stand right beside Jeannie. Beth felt what was left of her heart crumble into dust.
“You leave her alone,” Dana croaked at Todd.
Chelsea loomed at Dana’s back. She had her hand in her pocket, gripping something. Dana grabbed hold of her friend’s wrist, reassuring and warning.
Todd took in the gaggle of women trying to stand up to him, the crowds and the phones, all bearing witness to what he did next. Witness that could most definitely be used against him.
All at once, he grinned—sly and knowing.
“Okay, I get it, Star.” He nodded. “This is your idea of payback for all that aw-poor-baby stuff when you were a kid. You think”—he snickered—“you really think you’re going to take my wife away from me.”
“I’m not taking her anywhere,” said Beth. “But I’m not letting you beat on her while I’m watching. Not again.” She glanced at Jeannie. “If you want to go with him, Mom, fine. That’s your choice.”
“Don’t do it!” shouted someone from the crowd.
Jeannie’s hand strayed to the blood trickling down her cheek. She turned her shadowed, exhausted gaze toward her husband. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Todd threw up both hands. “This is what I get!” he said to the crowd, to God in heaven, and to anybody else who might be listening. “When all I’ve ever done is take care of you! What happened to ‘till death do us part’?”
Jeannie looked at her husband. She looked at Beth, Dana, and Chelsea.
“I’m not telling you again. We’re going.”
Jeannie shook her head.
“Fuck yeah!” a woman shouted. “Get the fuck outta here, douchebag! You’re done!”
Todd ignored her. He stalked forward until he was so close Beth could feel his breath against her face, and then he leaned even closer. “I know what you’re up to.”
She could get both hands around his neck right now. She could strangle him. She could dig her nails into his lower lip, or his ear, or the loose flesh under his chin and yank and twist. She could make him scream. Make him beg.
It was this understanding that allowed Beth to keep still while he leaned over her, blowing his stale breath into her face. He smelled like chili, beer, sweat, and metallic anger. She remembered this smell and the feel of his heat against her skin. She remembered all the times as a little girl she had sobbed because he’d hit her too. And then she’d sob again because her mother would tell her she should not disrespect her father. What did you do to make him so angry? she’d ask. Her father loved her so much. He just got angry sometimes because that was how he showed he cared.
What’s changed? Beth wondered. But she knew. Nothing had. Nothing could.
“You’ve been waiting for your chance this whole time, haven’t you?” Todd whispered. “What did you promise her so she’d help you pull off this little scene? Money? Pills? A widdle home all cozy and bwight fow just us girls?” He made a kissy face.
“You. Will. Back. Off,” said Beth. “Right now.”
Todd held up both his hands, showing everyone they were empty.
“Nothing changes,” he said as he walked calmly backward. “We are still flesh and blood.” He stabbed his finger past her shoulder, right at Jeannie. “All of us.”
Todd turned and deliberately banged into one of the bystanders behind him. The guy reeled back. Todd walked away, vanishing around the corner.
Nobody followed.
PART TWO
TRUTH OR DARE
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
What just happened?
Dana had her arm around her grandmother’s shoulders. Somebody was shaking. Dana couldn’t tell if it was her or Jeannie. But she stared at Chelsea over Jeannie’s head and knew her friend was thinking the exact same thing.
What the actual fuck just happened?
This bony, frightened woman was her grandmother—not the shadow Mom hid her from, but a real flesh-and-blood person.
Flesh-and-bleeding person. Dana jerked into motion. She dug into her purse and found a pack of Kleenex. She handed one to Jeannie.
“Thanks,” Jeannie breathed and blotted at the cut. A bright-red blotch spread across her temple from where he’d hit her.
Mom was talking to the cops, or at least, she was talking to one cop. Another cop was surrounded by people who were all shoving phones at him so he could see the photos and videos they’d taken. The rest of the crowd drained away, most of them tweeting and texting as they went.
The cops had questioned Dana, of course. They asked how things started and what she’d seen. They also asked why she was at this particular coffee shop at this particular time, with this particular woman.
She had to tell them, with Mom listening to every word.
Mom took a card from one of the cops and tucked it into her purse. The cop said something into his shoulder radio and went over to join his partner with the crowd of wannabe court witnesses.
Finally, Mom walked back to stand with Dana and Chelsea. And Jeannie.
“Please don’t be mad at her.” Jeannie gripped Dana’s hand. “She’s a good kid. None of this is her fault.”
“She just wanted to talk, Mom,” said Dana. “I swear—that’s all that was happening. She didn’t…”
But Mom had already turned away. “Chelsea, please take Dana home.” She pointed down the half-block to their building’s entrance, as if Chelsea needed a reminder.
Chelsea didn’t budge. “She’s telling the truth, Ms. Fraser. I know I sent you the picture and everything—”
“You did what?!” shouted Dana. Chelsea ignored her.
“—but they were just talking. I was there the whole time. Look.” Chelsea held up her phone. The grainy, off-kilter video showed Dana and Jeannie sitting at the table. It was too far away for the mic to have picked up their voices.
“Wait!” Dana grabbed her friend’s wrist. “You really recorded us?!”
“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Chelsea jerked away and stuffed her phone in her jeans pocket. “We might have needed evidence!”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Jeannie. She was shaking again. She hadn’t been able to get all the blood off her face, and there were dark-red streaks smeared across her cheek and jawline.
“Let’s get inside.” Mom took Jeannie’s hand out of Dana’s and walked her across the street.
Dana faced Chelsea. Her friend shifted from foot to foot and thumbed her phone screen without really looking at it.
“I should probably go home,” Chelsea said.
“Yeah,” agreed Dana, but Chelsea didn’t actually move.
“Do you want me to try to stay?”
Dana glanced over her shoulder. From here, she could see Mom was letting Jeannie push through the revolving door, but she was watching them. Even from here, Dana could feel the pressure of that look. “No. Go home. I’ll be okay.”
“Text me, Dana. Real soon. Let me know what’s…”
“Yeah. I will.” She had to move. Mom was waiting for her. “Don’t tell anybody, okay? I don’t know what—”
“Dana?” Mom called. “Let’s go!”
Chelsea flashed Mom a thumbs-up.
“Do yourself a favor, Dana,” she said quickly. “Do not try to fix this.”
“What do you mean? It’s my mom and my grandmother!” I’ve got a grandmother. She’s real—she’s there. Finally. I did that too. I…I’m found.
“Yeah, she’s your grandma. And that’s all you know, and look how bad it is already. You want to kick over rocks to see what crawls out—that’s one thing. You try and catch the things and put them back—that’s going to make it way worse.”
Chelsea was wrong, but there wasn’t any time to argue.
“Hey!” Chelsea shook Dana’s shoulder. “Are you gonna be okay? Cuz you do realize this is seriously fucked up. I mean, even by my standards.”
Dana felt her mouth twist up tight and sour. “Yeah, thanks. I figured that out. Be careful, Chelsea,” she said. “My…that guy might be hanging around.” Maybe watching. Maybe stalking. Fear grabbed hold and squeezed.
But Chelsea grinned and pulled out the glass nail file she kept in her pocket. She’d spent weeks honing down the edge and the tip, following all the directions from the how-to on YouTube. It could get past a metal detector and was hard to see on an X-ray. Perfect for the girl on the go who might need to stab somebody. She’d even made Dana one just like it for her internship, in case any of the guys on the line decided to get grabby.
“Oh, I hope he’s hanging around,” Chelsea whispered. “I really, really hope.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and headed back for the Starbucks. Dana was left to turn and walk toward her mother, her grandmother, and whatever was coming next.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Beth followed her mother and her daughter across the building lobby. She watched Jeannie watch Dana swipe her card for the elevator. She watched both of them taking little glances over their shoulders at her, waiting to see what she’d do.
A vague memory flickered through her. It was a picture of a little man in a jail cell—from a comic book, maybe? A shadowy crowd of thugs loomed over the little man, chuckling about how he was now trapped with them.
You don’t get it, the little man said. I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with me.
Beth walked down the hallway to her own door (and watched Jeannie take note of the apartment number). Beth opened it before Dana could fish out her keys, and stood back to let them both walk inside.
She shoved the door shut. She wished it would slam, but this was a high-end building and noises that might distress the neighbors were not permitted. She worked the locks, set the chain and the alarm. She knew without looking that Jeannie and Dana stood shoulder to shoulder behind her, waiting. Beth turned. She was right.
Jeannie rested her thin hand on Dana’s shoulder.
The room went red.
You do not get to touch her. Beth curled her fist against her thigh. You do not get to pretend you love her.
“This isn’t Jeannie’s fault,” Dana was saying. “This was me. I decided to go meet her.”
Beth ignored this. There was no way Dana had decided anything, not without a lot of help. “Will you go to your room, please, Dana? I need to talk to…my mother privately.”
Dana didn’t move. “I’ve got a right to hear.”
Beth’s hold on her patience slipped. “No, actually, you don’t.”
Which, of course, gave Jeannie a perfect opportunity to play the victim. “This was a mistake. I should go. She’s a good kid, St—Beth. Don’t be too hard on her, okay?” She started for the door.
“No!” Dana put a hand on Jeannie’s arm. “You’re not going! Mom, you can’t! She’s hurt!”
From memory, Beth saw Grammy standing in her bedroom doorway, back in the rusted trailer—hard-eyed, exhausted, and hating the pretty lady who smiled so easily and hugged little Star so tightly.
That’s me now. She’s set the whole scenario up all over again.
And why shouldn’t she? It had worked so very well then.
Beth sighed. “All right. All right. Why don’t we just sit down?”
“Here, Grandma.” Dana hurried to adjust the throw pillow on the chair-and-a-half. The invitation and the “Grandma” were her warning shots. Dana was already choosing sides. While “Grandma” settled back with a sigh of relief in Dana’s favorite chair, Dana perched on the arm.
A united front. You already think I ought to forgive her for the things that happened before you were born. You’re thinking, “Here’s this hurt, sad, starving woman asking for nothing but a safe space to exist.”
Jeannie pulled a Juul e-cigarette out of her pocket and took a hit.
“This isn’t how I wanted things, Star. Beth,” Jeannie amended. “I didn’t plan on any of this.” It was an old line, simple and highly polished from frequent use. “I thought I’d just meet my granddaughter, just once.” Her voice grew thick with the threat of tears.
Beth took a deep breath. “Todd said you’ve got cancer.”
“What?!” Dana shrieked. Jeannie just took another hit off the Juul.
“I do. Stomach cancer. Funny, I always thought it would be lungs.”
And of course it’s pure coincidence you got the kind that took out Grammy instead. After all, these things do run in families.
“Todd says you stay in bed with pain pills and vodka.”
“This is one of my good days. I get them.” She smiled, quick and tentative, not at Beth, but at Dana. Which only made sense. Dana was the one Jeannie had to make sure she won over.
“Why didn’t you come straight to me?”
“Would you have believed me? Would you have even listened? Of course you wouldn’t,” Jeannie answered for her. “And I don’t blame you.” She fiddled with her Juul, turning it over in her fingers, sucking on it quickly, turning it over again. Dana watched her grandmother, openly worried and fascinated. From where she stood, Beth could only see Dana’s brown eye. The light in it was soft, hopeful, and frightened all at once as she strained to understand what it meant that this woman was really here.
“I didn’t even know he was planning on finding you,” Jeannie continued. “He knew I’d try to stop him.”
“So, what did he tell you?” Beth asked. She could not sound angry. Not even a little. Tired was okay. Bewildered was fine. But not angry.
“He said he was working on somebody who could get me into a clinic. A good one.” She sucked on the Juul again, and for the first time, Beth saw the old, calcified bitterness shine in her bruised eye. “But that turned out to be another one of his lies.”
Dana hugged her and held on tight. Beth had to look away.
When Dana finally let her go, Jeannie sniffed. Dana immediately pulled a Kleenex out of the box on the coffee table so her grandmother could wipe her nose and her eyes.
“J— Mom. Do you really want to leave Todd?” Beth knew she should not sound so incredulous. It was the wrong emotion to be showing her daughter now.
“Of course she does!” snapped Dana. “You were there! You saw what he did!”
How did Beth remind her that was nothing new? Todd had knocked his “wife” around for years, but Jeannie Bowen always stood by her man. She engineered the setups for his scams, ran interference with the clerks, or played the suckers who could be distracted by a pretty smile and a discreet brush of boob. Then, when he ac
cused her of enjoying herself too much and decided she had to be reminded who was boss, she sat and took it.
The answer, of course, was that Beth couldn’t. Love and pain bore down on her heart.
“You don’t have to let me stay here. I won’t ask that,” Jeannie said. “But I don’t want to…I don’t want to die while he’s out hustling another poker game or trying to walk out with the tip jar.”
As a performance, it was Oscarworthy. It also gave Beth her opening.
Beth made herself lean back. She sighed. She let her eyes roam around the room, taking in the comfortable, eclectic details of the home she and Dana had made together. She counted to ten.
“Mom, if you’re sick, if you’re…trying to change, of course we’ll help.” Dana straightened and her eyes lit up. “But we have to be smart about this. Dad’s already making threats, and he knows where you are. The first thing we have to do is start contacting the women’s shelters and see which one’s got room.”
Jeannie stared at her. So did Dana.
“I know it’s scary, but it’s the best thing. We’ve got to keep you safe.” Beth walked over and crouched down so that her gaze was level with Jeannie’s. This close, she could clearly see how the red smear around Jeannie’s right eye was already darkening. It’d be a black bruise by morning. “First thing Monday, I’ll get my lawyer to work on a restraining order. And once that’s in place…well, we can figure out what’s next.”
She looked directly into Jeannie’s eyes and made herself smile, just a little. Check it out, Jeannie. This is what calling a bluff looks like.
“But, Mom, you know, we’ve got the guest room,” said Dana. “And building security…”
“Yeah, I know, Dana. I also know how good Todd is at talking his way past people. Mom needs someplace where she can stay anonymous until we get that restraining order.” She steeled herself and covered her mother’s hand with her own. “At a shelter, they’ll be ready for his kind of act, and they’ll be able to get you into counseling and help sign you up for insurance and disability and all that. You’re going to need it all to get on your feet.”
